Go, A Little Bit

I've had some release with my dear, departed dad, too.  He did the best job that he could and he didn't do a bad, either - he just didn't do the job that I wanted him to do.  This is a far different situation where my behavior is concerned, of course, as all of my dealings with other people leave a pleasant, pleasing fragrance hanging in the air.  Sure, I'm always a joy to be around.

In my efforts to reconcile all of my feelings about my dear, departed parents and my dear, departed sponsor I have been telling them each morning in my Quiet Time that I love them and miss them and that I'm going to let them go a little bit.  This last part is somewhat newish.  I don't want to forget them but instead let them inhabit their current space - whatever that may be -  and not demand that they occupy so much my space - which they clearly can no longer do.  I believe I can do this and honor their love and friendship while stepping away from the control and sorrow. We are clearly in different spaces.  This doesn't mean that we can't feel the presence of the others but that the relationship is less . . .uh, physical.  Go, you guys, a little bit, is my intent.

I've been telling my dad that he did a good job.  Not that he did the best that he could and I'm OK with his effort but that he did a good job.  I think I'm a pretty good guy and he had a huge role in my life so I guess he was doing things better than I thought.  I certainly wasn't the greatest kid for most of my first 30 years.  Maybe I should concentrate on that instead of on the perceived shortcomings of others.